


frailty and consequence

by livbartlet



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6678772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livbartlet/pseuds/livbartlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the man who would never say thanks <br/>(#82, 100 fairy tale prompts)</p>
<p>Ned, the ever-honorable, is ever heartbreaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	frailty and consequence

_I am the queen, and I will do as I please_. Deep in the dungeons of the Red Keep, Cersei Lannister finds herself consciously straightening her back, drawing at her pride to see her through the dark corridors, through the maze of ghosts and dragons and tragic history. The lantern in her hand does too poor a job of illuminating her path.  
  
The key in her hand is folly. She knows it, yet she is compelled to see him again. The second Hand who would have unmade her. The one she cannot kill.  
  
The stench, the darkness, it is all more foul down here than she expected. But she is set on her course. ( _Your damnable pride will be your undoing_. Robert's voice? She is imagining things.)  
  
The key turns clumsily in the lock - or is it her fingers that are clumsy - and she opens the door. In this cell, fit for the highest of traitors, Ned Stark is brought low. She should feel more satisfaction in this fact.  
  
"Your Grace." He rises at her entrance, but his voice is icy disdain - damnable northern pride - and certainly lacking any courtesy.  
  
"My dear Hand," she drips sweet venom at him in return. Even smiles - she has already won their little contest, after all.  
  
"Why are you here?" Ah, there it is. The _weary_ , wary prisoner emerges.  
  
"I am checking on your health, Lord Stark. It would not do for you to be too ill on the morrow."  
  
"Ah, then, you will finally have my head."  
  
"No. Unfortunately, you will live. You will confess and take the black and disappear into obscurity."  
  
"And my daughters?"  
  
"They are well taken care of." She flicks a speck of dust from her sleeve. Why did she come here? To see if Ned Stark could be broken? Because she has always wondered what lay underneath all that honor? More honor, more _rectitude_. "No more questions?"  
  
He answers her with silence.  
  
"It is no matter. It will be quite a spectacle. You will be putting on a show for the smallfolk, Lord Stark. I expect you will remember your lines."  
  
"I know the bargain I have made." He is suddenly fierce in aspect. He would wring her neck if he could, she thinks. If he were one to kill a woman.  
  
"You should be grateful! I am letting you live!" She steps forward, the better to see his eyes, the better to grab at his face with her sharp fingers, to shake some sense into him. "It is because of the mercy of your Queen you will live beyond tomorrow."  
  
"It is no favor you do me."  
  
"Perhaps the crowd will call for your head. Perhaps I will grant them their blood."  
  
"I do not think you will."  
  
"You question my resolve!"  
  
"You should have poisoned me, as you did Jon Arryn."  
  
"The sword is not my weapon? You are a fool."  
  
"You are a viper. And I will not thank you for my life. I will play my part. That is all."  
  
"Farewell, Ned Stark." She sweeps away from him with her lamp and he recedes into darkness; when she looks back from the door she cannot see him. "Savor your honorable defeat. I know I am."  
  
The blood of the noble traitor spills onto sacred steps and Cersei finds no joy in it at all. Ned Stark remains unbroken while control slips slowly from her grasp.


End file.
